After five hours on a bus from Phnom Penh to central Cambodia which in normal circumstances would have taken around two we were more than happy to arrive at our homestay. Five long, slow hours on a rickety bus on which we were forced to watch Cambodian comedies that were piped into speakers at a deafening level left us tired and not a little cranky. Adding to that, the roads were terrible, similar to the roads in the Rocky Mountains which are not really roads, boasting signs that say, 'Travel at your own risk. This road is not maintained'. Well the CDOT hasn't seen anything. I feared we would drive into a deep pothole, tumble to one side, and slide into the roadside Mekong backwater. We moved at a snail's pace, bumping along and at several points I thought we'd have to do a repeat of the 'push your transportation' game we had played in Phnom Penh! At the three hour mark we stopped at a 'truck-stop' for busses. Available for purchase for our eating pleasure were myriads of the famous insect snacks of Cambodia, including my favorite, the Tarantula! No, I didn't eat any!
Hut Sweet Hut
We stayed a couple nights in the countryside to gain an understanding of rural Cambodian life. The homestay was located down a narrow, overgrown path. At the end stood three small bungalows on stilts made of bamboo and straw thatch and a similar grounded hut for 'doing one's business', along with a larger bungalow which held the 'kitchen' and the family's sleeping quarters. An American man of late age greeted us and the small Cambodian woman to whom he was married showed us to our hut. She explained that we should be sure to have our flashlights before dark, as there was no electricity or candles, and also to shut the door so snakes couldn't get in. I thought perhaps the local snakes must be the polite kind as I noticed between the bamboo walls a three inch gap running floor to ceiling. After a welcome lemongrass tea on their rustic patio, witnessing the woman kill a snake of undetermined variety, followed by a discourse by the American on the dangers of snake bites in Cambodia and how we should be very careful to watch where we stepped, it was suggested that we take our nature walk. (Oh, JOY!) It was noted that my leather sandals wouldn't do. She said, "You must wear these", handing me a pair of flip flops - the flimsy kind, what I call shower shoes. I obediently donned them while thinking, 'Really? I'm really going to walk in the jungle along the Mekong wearing these'? I questioned her - she insisted and explained simply, "Too much mud for leather sandals". Okay, if you say so.
Biking is the way to go!
Off we went. I began to say things like, "How cool!", and "Wow, this is the real deal!'.. but inside I was uneasy as thus far the experience was reminding me of scenes from 'Deliverance'. We walked slowly in the direction of the Mekong along a muddy dirt road, avoiding stray cattle and deep potholes filled with dark water and mud. Villagers peeked around fences from their plots of land, saying, 'hello', or 'sua s'dei'.
Skinny cow in the alley
All too happy to smile for the camera!
Giggling children ran alongside us, happy to have a distraction from their daily routines. The greetings coming from these neighbors made us feel much more comfortable and despite the intense moist heat we began to relax. We walked on raised ground which outlined watery, green rice fields, as our hostess told us the importance of this river; how the Mekong rises during the rainy season, flooding the land, enabling the farmers to grow rice, thereby giving life to the people. Just as the charm of the tour began to work it's magic on me, I felt a slippery, slithery something slide across my right foot and plop into the rice paddy on my left. I screamed of course, then a heated discussion ensued between our guide and her children on what the creature might have been. The young boy insisted it couldn't have been an eel because, "Eels are not stupid, they are afraid of us! It must have been a snake!" The mother contended it was a fish. (That was NO fish!) Chris said he thought it was an eel, while I stood stunned and uncharacteristically quiet, wishing I were instead having a pedicure or massage in a nice air-conditioned spa.
Looking happy - pre-slithering slimy thing
Thus began my two day bout of whimpering. Nevertheless, on we walked, being delayed a second time due to stray cattle getting into the family garden. It wasn't much of a garden, really, just trees and grass, but those cows were helping themselves to the grass which was designated for family cows only. We had been wondering why she had brought along a three foot long scythe with a two foot blade, and now saw an example of how handy dandy that blade could be. She quickly and deftly swung downward the implement over a thick bamboo grove and produced three long poles, perfectly suited for swatting cattle. Over the fence holding a bamboo pole went each of them, and as they swatted we began to hear shouting, none of which we understood, of course - cows in Cambodia speak Khmer!
A handy but menacing tool
Ra swatting stray cattle
Crisis number two resolved, we finally reached the Mekong where the children played and swam. I must say I couldn't believe how the children and adults alike just easy peasy walked into that water, shoulder high, to fish or play. Uhm, no freaking way would I do that. It's true that I swam in the Harpeth River a few times as a child, and it's also true there are poisonous snakes in the Harpeth, but somehow this was really different. Aside from the snakes and leeches - a landfill was piled high just next to the spot where children swam and fishermen gathered their daily catch. 
Ra and Na swimming in the Mekong
A young boy tends his mother's rice fields
As their mother called them from the water, they continued playing like most children would do - avoiding the reality that playtime was over. Finally emerging from the water, the daughter began to scream - blood curdling screams. She had been stung by a large black scorpion. Screams of agony caused me to freeze in my tracks as the mother sucked poison out of the wound. There was nothing to be done except to rush her back to the house, using short cuts through unchartered and weedy, wet fields as her screams continued. My flimsy flip flops were no match for the deep, dark mud, and as they continued to be sucked into the sludge I was sure I was living a nightmare. At last we arrived back at the huts and although the girl was injured, she was going to be okay.
Post Scorpion trauma
In light of the challenges this family lives with, I admire the mother more than I could express. A survivor of the Pol Pot regime, she is a loving mother, a friendly and welcoming host, and worked all day and into the night without complaint as far as I could tell. She does this without the aid of any modern conveniences, even simple ones like lighting or running water. Her kitchen is a dark place, even during the day, yet she produced some amazing meals for us. Very tasty indeed. The balance of flavors, the interesting combinations - I was impressed.
As for sleep, well, we didn't get very much, but when we left after two days, I was changed. Just knowing that people live like that - having experienced the reality of what it is like - has made its mark on both of us. We have never been more appreciative of our blessings.
Dear Violet,
This is the shower and toilet room. But there is no shower. There is just a garbage can filled with water with a scoop to pour cold water over your head. But you have to do it quickly because mosquitos find you fast and there are also spiders living in there. Aunt Becky wouldn't use it in the night because she is afraid of snakes!
Love,
Uncle Chris
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